<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Primary Sources by ChocoChipBiscuit</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343669">Primary Sources</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit'>ChocoChipBiscuit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, F/M, Femdom, First Time, Fisting, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Science Fiction &amp; Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Spit As Lube, dubious definitions of virginity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:48:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As a nerdy princess sworn to chastity, Verna’s sexual experience is confined to speculation and questionable erotica.</p><p>Good thing her bodyguard's a slut!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Virginal Elf Princess/Buff Orc Bodyguard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Femdom Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Primary Sources</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts">BiffElderberry</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All uses of the word 'slut' in this fic are playful and nonshaming unless you're into that!</p><p>Many thanks to <a>Hobbitdragon</a>, for not only being a fantastic beta, but also brainstormer, cheerleader, and gracious inspiration through the first round of note-taking and multiple drafts.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shut the door, shut the door!” Verna screamed, boots skidding across the wooden floors of the forgotten library. Eldritch lightnings fractured the night sky outside the immense windows, rune-worked iron frames holding firm against the howling dark. The ambient power of the place crackled across her skin, grounding itself in the gold charms that rattled on her goddess braids.</p><p>Callias threw himself at the door with a roar, five hundred-plus pounds of rage slamming it shut on an oozing black tentacle. The orc bit the thrashing tentacle off with a sickening rip, as if the very sonic fabric of the universe tore along with the elastic limb.</p><p>“Ewww! <em>Callias</em>!” Verna squealed, stomach flipping even as she started tracing wards across the mantel.</p><p>He grinned, ichor dripping from his tusks. “Sushi.”</p><p>Which was—okay, <em>gross</em>—but also a sign that he was in good spirits. He had never cracked these kinds of jokes when hauling archival documents or research materials back at the palace compound. They both knew that his role as bodyguard was generally seen as an honorable retirement; Callias was a veteran, and Verna was only one of the lesser Princess-Priests. Her assignments were more scholarly than martial, and the most blood she ever saw came from a bad papercut.</p><p>But when the palace scouts reported the discovery of a pre-Cataclysm library...well. Things had gotten <em>interesting</em>.</p><p>Verna finished her wards with a heavy sigh, fingers numb from chafing them across the rough stone. She breathed into her cupped palms, infusing the wards with her own energy, and they flared to life with a searing brightness.</p><p>On the other side of the door, more shadowed monstrosities raged. The doors creaked, billowing like sails in a breeze, but her wards held firm. Impenetrable, even, she thought—an unfunny pun when one was sexually frustrated and sworn to a life of chastity.</p><p>She had been just past menarche when she’d taken the oath. Chastity hadn’t seemed onerous at the time, but as she’d grown older—as she’d started delving into the restricted section of the palace library, studied the illustrated copies of <em>Morisbondt’s Physiological Delights</em> and the euphemistically-named <em>Comparative Anatomy Lessons of the Catacomb Princes</em>, and she begun her own nightly explorations beneath the confines of her skirts—well!</p><p>Virginity was starting to feel <em>awfully</em> frustrating.</p><p>Verna sighed, banishing that errant thought. Her surreptitious research had indicated that ‘virginity’ meant simply ‘unmarried, and never with child.’ A few of the other princess-priests had confirmed that, passing it along as a most delicious secret: fingers did not count. Toys did not count. In fact, as long as there was no risk of pregnancy, one’s connection to the sisterhood remained intact. Considering how often Verna masturbated herself to sleep, she would have lost her powers <em>years</em> ago if self-gratification had been a disqualifier.</p><p>Callias hummed, blissfully ignorant of Verna’s thoughts. Just as well, considering how many of her thoughts were about <em>him.</em></p><p>In his role as bodyguard, personal protector, and, yes, her book mule, his face was the first to greet her in the mornings and the last to wish her goodnight. His green skin was annotated with scars like marginalia in an illuminated manuscript. When asked—and oh, how <em>often</em> she’d asked, insatiably curious about a life so different from her own—he regaled her with thrilling accounts of his past battles. Verna loved listening to his stories. His anecdotes were juicy compared to the dry bones of a tactician’s notes.</p><p>And seeing him in action…? Muscles gleaming, sweat down the shaved lines of his skull, sword swinging in a glittering arc as he heaved it up onto his shoulder…?</p><p>Verna was so distracted that she almost missed the cut above his temple. Her eyes widened, and she blurted, “You’re hurt!”</p><p>“A scratch.” Callias shrugged, despite the blood streaking his face.</p><p>“Look, let me heal you—”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not?” Verna balled her firsts at her side, trembling with frustration. Her ears twitched; a childish habit she had never fully outgrown. </p><p>He licked his lips, offering a tantalizing glimpse of dark tongue before he shrugged again. “I earned this.” </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at her, yellow eyes gleaming. Verna pressed her lips together, chiding herself as she realized that she had already walked closer to him, one arm raised as if to stroke the cut he clearly didn’t want her to heal. Not that she could <em>reach</em> it, not even on tip-toe, which made her only more keenly aware of the way she shivered in his shadow.</p><p>“Scars are earned. A measure of service.” Callias cupped his hand around hers, her delicate fingers swallowed up in the hollow of his palm. The brush of his calluses against her ink-stained fingertips sent tingles up her arm, and she was sure he could see the heat rising in her face. “Let me keep this.”</p><p>Verna’s heart buckled at the implication of his words: if scars were a mark of pride, then how much glory had he sacrificed to be in her service? </p><p>“As you wish,” she mumbled.</p><p>Callias moved in front of her, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. A thin layer of dust covered everything. No footsteps disturbed it, though the dirt was not as severe as she would have expected after centuries of abandonment. The books appeared intact, the leather still dry, and a quick skim of the labyrinthine shelves indicated no rot or vermin, which likely meant that whatever preservation spells had been laid down were still intact.</p><p>She turned to examine the shelves more closely, steps kicking up clouds of dust.</p><p>“Careful. Wouldn’t put it past the old ones to boobytrap this place,” Callias said, voice harsh in the silence of the library.</p><p>“Mm,” Verna hummed, not quite in agreement. Libraries were repositories of knowledge, meant to be shared...but then again, Callias’ role was to protect her. “I won’t wander far, I promise.”</p><p>Callias paced the library’s perimeter, glowering at the darkness. She recognized the agitation in his stride. He hated feeling useless, which, her unhappy mind supplied, meant that his entire decade of service to her had been one of endurance rather than patience. No brigands had waylaid them, no kidnappers demanded ransom, and his magnificent back had been put to use hauling books rather than bodies.</p><p>“Can you help me find the catalogue?” Verna asked hopefully. She skimmed her fingers along the books’ spines, savoring the varied textures of the bindings, the gold leaf and rich dyes that illustrated the covers. She drew out one volume, unable to restrain a delighted coo at the intricately painted edges, so that looking at the book edge-on displayed a ship at sea. “Just browsing the shelves is lovely, but there is so <em>much</em>…”</p><p>Callias nodded. Then he left to prowl the edges of the library, checking long-abandoned desks and the most obvious display pieces.</p><p>Verna focused her attention back to the task at hand. There were various maps scattered about, hung as if for ornamentation rather than reference, and she could roughly date them by the territories shown. Many of them tracked the waves of territory lost and regained during the Empress' conquests, which supported Verna’s theory that this library dated pre-Cataclysm. The Empress had infamously destroyed her libraries and captured artifacts rather than let the rebel priesthood reclaim them. Historians like Verna were left picking through the rubble for what little they could salvage, so if this was truly an intact, pre-Cataclysm library...</p><p>At last she located the catalogue books—bound in pale leather, though if the leather was from humanoid skin she quite honestly couldn’t tell the difference—and took them to camp at one of the reading tables. The most thorough was an itemized catalogue of the entire library, including the individual texts contained within each book. One was written entirely in cipher, and after puzzling over it for a while, Verna realized it listed various traps and other deterrents. Did this mean that the traps were put in place <em>after</em> the Cataclysm, or had it been the Empress’ selfish nature showing itself even before she broke the extraplanar rift?</p><p>Verna would ask the tentacles, if she thought she’d get an answer. Other scholars had attempted establishing communications with them, but such interactions generally ended in violence.</p><p>They set up their bedrolls and ate a cold supper there in the library. With her belly full, she made the mistake of complaining about the crick in her neck—which meant that Callias finally managed to bribe her from her studies with the offer of a massage. </p><p>“I would <em>kill</em> for a primary source from before the Cataclysm, Callias!” Verna wailed into her pillow, wriggling as Callias wedged his thumbs into the muscles bunched around her shoulders. “Journals, speeches—<em>aungh</em>! Anything! Personal accounts—<em>unf!</em> Not biographies or—<em>hnngh!</em>—dissertations written after the fact! The Empress didn’t just break the world when she caused the Cataclysm, she broke—<em>mmf!—</em>our chain of history, and—”</p><p>“Less talk. More sleep.”</p><p>“But Callias, this is <em>important</em>!”</p><p>“<em>You</em> are important.” Callias grunted, shifting his weight, and <em>ouch—</em>with a sudden pop beneath her skin, something shifted like marbles in a bag. Verna went limp, softening in the luxurious waves of soreness that came after such a release.</p><p>“But...my research...” she said plaintively, too sore for any greater protest.</p><p>“You’ll think better once you’ve slept,” Callias insisted.</p><p>Easier said than done, Verna thought to herself as Callias rose and returned to his own bedroll. Her skin still thrilled at the memory of his touch.</p><p>Normally, she would take care of herself in private. Verna had trained herself to climax quickly and discreetly so she could take care of her needs without compromising even the perception of her chastity. But with Callias right <em>there</em> and on the alert…</p><p>She couldn’t bring herself to slide into her bedroll—only a few feet from Callias!—to try to furtively masturbate. But she’d have to if she wanted to sleep. She had to every night.</p><p>So Verna made a quick excuse that she just needed to check the location of a particular volume and slipped into the comforting darkness. Once there, she leaned against a shelf and quickly hitched up her skirt. Then she licked her fingers, shoving them down her underthings. As usual, she tried to make up for the lack of foreplay by imagining that it was Callias’ thick fingers prying her open, his tongue against her clit and his breath hot over her thighs. She bit her lip against the force of this thought, slipping into the familiar fantasy.</p><p>He was so big, was it any wonder she always imagined him on his knees? Kneeling before her, all sweet supplication bent to her will, that was how she liked to picture him. Verna had even—carefully!—researched the mechanics via documented physiological studies of unions between their species. The so-called ‘mating press’ of a receptive elf and their chosen orc companion was a common chapter across multiple sexual compendia—mostly written by humans, funnily enough—but Verna found it difficult to determine which accounts were factual and which were mere prurient fantasies given ink.</p><p>It was easier, then, to imagine him doing what she already knew from doing it herself—caressing her clit, touching her thighs. Slightly less easy to imagine all the unknowns of touching him in return—stroking the slick ropes of scars running up his chest and back, the flat buds of his nipples in her mouth—but not impossible. With hopeful zeal she pictured the softness hidden beneath the hard lines of his armor, the textures of his skin and hair and…</p><p>Verna couldn’t help it. She moaned.</p><p>“Princess?”</p><p>Verna’s eyes slammed open as she heard Callias coming closer, heavy footsteps muffled across the ancient carpet. She yanked her hands from her drawers, twisting and trying to flip her skirts back into their proper place, but—</p><p>Callias caught her sticky-fingered and mortified, her skirts still rumpled and her face not yet smoothed from its panicked expression. His nostrils flared—there was a very distinctive scent in the air right now, and it wasn’t just old inks and parchment. </p><p>His eyes popped, and he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.</p><p>“Princess! Your—your virginity!” Callias rapidly backpedaled before falling over a reading bench with a heavy thunk. She would have worried, but he had just missed striking one of the shelves, so the books were still undisturbed.</p><p>Thankfully, pedantry was a welcome distraction from her mortification.</p><p>“Masturbation doesn’t count as sex, Callias!” Verna declared, chin held high as she wiped her fingers on the inside of her skirt. This was no worse than her thesis defense, she told herself. And Callias was much more fun to look at than the faculty. “Besides which, masturbation has many well-documented benefits, dating back at least as far as Athanou’s treatise on so-called ‘onanistic therapy.’ It helps with anxiety, stress, headaches, muscle tension—”</p><p>Callias cowered against a shelf, trying to make himself as small as possible. Which was inexplicably hot, actually, though not very successful. </p><p>“Erm. Have you had any of those?” he inquired, voice uncharacteristically tentative.</p><p>“No!” Verna crossed her arms, glaring down at him. “Because I <em>masturbate</em>.”</p><p>Callias clutched his knees, wild-eyed and digging his nails into his forearms. “But—but my duty. Your purity. Your—your <em>wards</em>. Princess, if the monsters break in—”</p><p>“If masturbation counted as sex, I’d have lost my powers <em>years</em> ago.”</p><p>Callias let out a strangled squeak. She wasn’t sure how a throat that big made a noise that high.</p><p>Verna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, this is obviously not...not comfortable for either of us. Just leave me alone and let me take care of this, then we can pretend nothing happened.”</p><p>“Princess, I’m so sorry,” Callias whispered, shame-faced and small. As if he was somehow <em>responsible</em> for this predicament, though Verna had no idea how he could imagine that. Perhaps it was an over-developed martyr complex. “I am so, so sorry. How can I fix this?”</p><p>“Let me fuck you senseless? Or—” Verna caught herself as his eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head. Considering their differences in rank, he might well consider that an order. “No, no, don’t! That was just a bad joke, this is not your fault!”</p><p>“You shouldn’t—” He gulped, thunderously loud in the silence of the library. She could see the sweat gleaming off his skin, as if he was caught in a frantic battle with himself. Callias’ face was a study in exquisite agony, a tragedian’s mask as he said, “You shouldn’t want me, and I refuse to take advantage of you.”</p><p>Oh. That was not what she’d expected him to say. This, she just <em>had</em> to hear.</p><p>“Why shouldn’t I want you, exactly?” she asked, with what she thought would pass as professional curiosity.</p><p>“I’m—I’m old, I’m beneath your status—I was a <em>mercenary</em>, Princess, I’m covered in <em>scars</em>—”</p><p>Verna let out a long sigh. She buffed her nails against her sleeve, trying to sound as detached as possible. “Callias, have you ever considered that I might be attracted to you <em>because</em> of those things, rather than in spite of them?”</p><p>Callias thumped his head against the shelf, which she worried might disturb the texts, and let out an anguished howl: “I’m <em>bald</em>!”</p><p>Verna burst into laughter, slumping against the books. “Callias, did you—did you really think I never <em>noticed</em>? I mean, you shave your <em>head</em>!”</p><p>“You’re not in your right mind,” he said doggedly. “I won’t—I <em>can’t </em>just let you—”</p><p>“Callias, you can’t stop me from masturbating.” Tartly, she added, “Leave me alone unless you’re planning to watch.”</p><p>Callias’ knees trembled, but he wasn’t getting up. Verna glared at him, wondering if he thought she was bluffing.</p><p>If so, she was going to call him on it. Keeping her gaze locked on his face, she watched his eyes widen as she rolled up her skirts again. She slipped her fingers back into her drawers, cocking her hip—</p><p>“Wait! You don’t have to—I mean, I can <em>prove</em> it’s my fault! And you don’t have to keep—doing that!” Callias yelped. He held his hands up, waving them in desperate surrender. “You said you were attracted to me! If I’ve corrupted you, then it’s not your fault! You can stop—”</p><p>Verna rolled her eyes, and rubbed herself with more determination than inspiration. “That’s the most weirdly egotistical thing I’ve ever heard. <em>You</em> aren’t responsible for making me a sexual person, Callias. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been masturbating since before we even <em>met</em>.”</p><p>Callias was clearly flummoxed, not sure where to look as Verna struggled to regain her arousal. He opened and closed his mouth several times, gulping on air, before finally settling his gaze somewhere over Verna’s left ear.</p><p>“Wait. Erm. What counts as virginity, then?” Callias asked, keeping his eyes firmly in place. Perhaps he thought ignoring her fingers might make them disappear.</p><p>“Nothing that can get me pregnant. Fingers are fine, toys are fine. Theoretically, I could perform fellatio—”</p><p>“<em>Princess</em>! I’m not—I’m not asking you for a blowjob!”</p><p>“Obviously not. So why are you here?”</p><p>Callias flushed, green skin darkening to a ruddy ochre. “Princess, you deserve—you deserve to have a good time. I am sorry I interrupted you. If you would like aid, or anything to ease your current...situation, I am yours to command.”</p><p>“You don’t have to,” Verna groaned, hating that she was arguing against her own cherished fantasies. She pulled her fingers from her panties, and felt herself clench around that frustrating absence. “You don’t <em>have</em> to, Callias. I can take care of myself.”</p><p>“Princess—” Callias sat up, shuffling his weight forward so he knelt on the floor. He held his hands on his knees, and she could see the way his fingers dug into his trousers, dimpling the material against his thighs. “I know I don’t have to. But I would like to. For you, Verna.”</p><p>He spoke her name like it was something holy. The vowels were filled with spice and perfume, and in hearing him say it, Verna realized how little he had ever spoken her name—it was always ‘Princess,’ whether in public or in private. But now…</p><p>There were unspoken volumes beneath his words, shades of nuance that she would love to explore. That she would <em>need</em> to explore, once all this was done. Once she could gather enough thought for more than the realization that yes, <em>yes</em>, he wanted her too, and that she could maybe even touch Callias outside of fantasy.</p><p>“Have you thought about us before? Like this?” she asked, hopeful.</p><p>“Bodyguards aren’t supposed to—”</p><p>“I’m not asking about ‘supposed to.’ I’m asking ‘have you?’ Because I’ve thought about you a <em>lot</em>, Callias. Every night before I go to sleep, in fact.”</p><p>He dropped his gaze to the floor, shoulders slumped. “I—yes, Princess. I’ve thought about what I’d do, if I were allowed to touch you.” Callias let out a sudden laugh, shaking his head. “You bite your tongue when you’re thinking, you know that? Just—seeing your tongue against your lip, even if you’re just reading—do you know what that looks like? What that does to me?”</p><p>“What <em>does</em> it do, Callias?” Verna breathed. It was dizzying, to think that such a small gesture could do anything for him. It made her feel powerful, in a way that she wasn’t used to feeling.</p><p>“It makes me think about kissing you,” he answered morosely. “It makes me think about my tongue in your mouth, and how your lips would look around my cock. It makes me want to see if your cunt has the same pretty flash of pink against your dark skin that your tongue does.” His low rumble made the words both obscene and reverential, and Verna felt herself throb with a surge of arousal. “Princess—what do <em>you</em> think about? Every night?”</p><p>“I’d like to lick you all over, kiss your neck and your chest and work my way down. Pinch and squeeze your nipples, maybe bite them a little. And—” She stammered in spite of herself. Imagination was one thing, but reality was another. She’d never said any of this out loud to someone before. “—play with your backside. Just because <em>I</em> can’t have anything inside me doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about <em>you</em> having things inside you.”</p><p>Callias chuckled, then gave a fleeting smile as he turned his face up to look at her. He held out one hand, palm up in supplication. “Will you show me?”</p><p>Verna giggled, feeling effervescent with shock and relief all at once. “Yes! But...back in camp.”</p><p>She led him back to their small camp, where she pushed him—where he <em>allowed</em> himself to be pushed, as if her half-hearted shove was anything against his bulk—onto a bedroll. In all her fantasies, she had imagined taking the lead with confidence, always knowing exactly what would bring them both pleasure. But it was very different being confronted with real flesh.</p><p>“Will you get naked for me?” Verna asked, wringing her hands behind her back.</p><p>Callias stripped, with all the quiet ceremony of running through sword drills. His clothing was folded or set aside on the floor like an offering, and Verna drank in the familiar shapes of him—broad shoulders, thick arms, wide chest—without cloth or armor to obscure them. She already knew the hard lines and angles of him, the jut of his knuckles and the swell of his biceps, but she could now see the thick layers of flesh over his belly and waist and the padded bulk of his thighs. He just looked so <em>comfortable</em>, like she could lie across him and sink into the weight of his body.</p><p>Callias chuckled with a self-effacing twist of his brows, apparently misreading her hungry gaze. He slapped his belly so it jiggled. “Palace living, sorry. You should have seen me twenty years ago.”</p><p>“I like the way you look <em>now</em>,” she said shyly. “May I touch you?”</p><p>He sprawled back on the bedroll, hands pillowed under his head. “I’m all yours.”</p><p>Verna snuck a peek at his cock—goodness, it was big, yes, but also <em>floppy</em>. In all the pictures she’d seen, they either hung straight down or jutted out when ready for sex. She hadn’t thought about how it might hang to one side, or how soft the skin was beneath her palm. Verna sat next to Callias, one hand resting on his thigh as the other reached out to stroke him. A tentative squeeze confirmed how soft it was, almost spongy, but it rapidly hardened under her caress. She let out a shocked giggle as it grew, then wrapped both hands around the base. Her fingers couldn’t even touch.</p><p>“Oh! That would—that would never fit. I suppose my virginity is safe after all.”</p><p>Callias let out a shudder, cock swaying in her hands.  “Verna, you—you’re teasing me.”</p><p>“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?” Verna kissed the tip of his penis, sliding her tongue along the slit—and oh, but he was wet there already, damp and salty against her lips. It was a pleasant surprise; she hadn’t thought about how different it might feel from a wooden dildo. “Can you hold still for me? I want to play with you.”</p><p>“Princess—please. Wouldn’t you rather focus on what <em>you</em> like?”</p><p>“I like touching you, Callias. Would you prefer something else?”</p><p>He swallowed. “Princess, you’re—you’re a virgin. I feel responsible for making sure you have a good time.”</p><p>“Have you done this before?”</p><p>Callias blew out his lips, giving an apologetic shrug. “I’m <em>not</em> a virgin. Not in any sense of the term.”</p><p>She laughed. “Don’t be sorry! This is <em>wonderful</em>, that means you can tell me just what you like!”</p><p>“I want to make you feel good. If I get an orgasm, that’s just a bonus.”</p><p>“I want to feel good too, don’t worry. But I like <em>teasing</em> you, Callias. I don’t think you even know how much you’ve teased <em>me</em>.” Verna mock-growled in her throat, straddling Callias’ hips—and <em>oof</em> but that didn’t even work, her skirts refusing to stretch that far, so she slid out of her robes and tossed them aside. She stripped out of her undergarments too while still scolding Callias. “When you train with the guards, the way you splash water on yourself after? Just! Buckets of water over your head, sticking your shirt to your chest and the way you just <em>gleam</em>? I have spent <em>so much</em> time just thinking about that. Or when you’ve carried me to bed when I’ve fallen asleep at the library, and sometimes I’m only <em>pretending</em> to sleep just because I love the way my head rests against your chest...”</p><p>Callias' throat trembled as he gulped in air. “It wasn’t <em>intentional</em>, Princess. And what I like isn’t as important as you having a good time.”</p><p>“What if I have a good time making <em>you</em> have a good time?” she challenged.</p><p>“Well I—I like when it hurts, Princess.” As he said it his cock jerked up away from his belly as if to prove his point. “I like it a lot.”</p><p>Verna caught her tongue between her canines, smiling—and <em>oh</em>, he was right, she never even <em>realized</em> she bit her tongue when she was thinking. “Oh really? Tell me about that, then.” His chest was too wide to properly straddle, so she stood over his neck instead. Callias was big enough that she could sit on the flat plate of his sternum, leaning back so he could get a good look at her cunt. If he wanted to see her grow wet and pink, she’d <em>show</em> him.</p><p>“I like getting bitten. Getting stepped on. Getting my balls slapped or crushed. I like—” His breath hitched, his body trembling beneath her and making her rock as he struggled to stay in place. “I like getting hurt.”</p><p>“What do you like about getting hurt?”</p><p>Callias groaned, struggling with the words as she rubbed herself over his chest. “I like the pain. Not just any pain. It’s—it has to be a <em>worthy</em> pain. And it would be, giving myself to you. Giving up control to you.”</p><p>Verna smirked. “Do you like it when I’m mean, then?”</p><p>“Oh <em>gods</em> yes.”</p><p>“Am I being mean right now?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>.” </p><p>His hips curled up with impotent want. Between that movement and struggling to stay upright as she rubbed circles around her clit, Verna had to lean her free hand back against his body to support herself. And <em>oh</em> but it was nice, after years of discretion, to be able to moan and sigh with the full force of her longing. She let her breath rattle her mouth, her moans coming in shuddering gasps as she wrung herself to orgasm on Callias’ chest.</p><p>Callias’ forehead was dappled with sweat, face twisted in a grimace that seemed more frustration than pain.</p><p>“I think...next time, if you’re good, I’ll let <em>you</em> do that,” Verna sighed. She giggled at his wounded look.</p><p>“When have I <em>not</em> been good?” he demanded.</p><p>“Mm. True.” She stretched languidly, lifting her arms overhead and making sure to wriggle so that her breasts shook. Verna liked the way he watched her, and liked the small jump of the tendons in his neck while he swallowed. “I think I’d rather play with you right now, though.”</p><p>So she slid down his body—or tried to. Her knees didn’t even reach the ground when she sat astride him, and she had to squirm her legs so she could lean across him. She kissed the pillowy abundance of his pectorals, letting her breath puff across the salt and pepper hairs covering him. The soft flow of his body hair tickled beneath her palms as she caressed it, hands hovering just above the skin. He was so <em>warm</em>, radiant as a flame. When she touched his nipples, they were soft, almost flat against the billow of his chest. When she licked them, he gave a full-body shudder.</p><p>“Too much?”</p><p>“No, Princess. I like it, but I have...sensitive nipples.”</p><p>Which meant that she <em>had</em> to lick them again, and then tug them between her fingers too. Callias said he liked pain, but surely a simple lick wasn’t enough to hurt him? Neither was a pinch, apparently, as he jerked but did not moan, but if she pulled and then <em>twisted</em>…</p><p>Callias gave the most satisfying cry.</p><p>“Oh, if only I had some clamps. I bet I could put them on a little chain, then just tug you around wherever I wanted,” Verna whispered. She giggled, biting his chest hard enough to leave a coin-sized mark of teeth. “I could think of all sorts of <em>delicious</em> things to do with you…”</p><p>Callias grunted, though that seemed hardly a complaint. Verna ran her teeth along his ribs, breathing in the musky scent of him—warm leather, metal polish, the tang of sweat and skin. Callias was so strong, and so far so pliable. It only made her want to tease him even more, to bother him as much as he’d bothered her over the years. </p><p>She pushed herself over one of his thighs, tilting so that her wetness slicked against his leg. She found, with a little wriggling, that if she got the angle <em>just</em> so, she could rut her clit against him this way. His erection pressed against her belly, and such was their size difference that it went right between her breasts. If she squeezed them together, she could almost kiss him between the warm channel of her cleavage.</p><p>A lovely thought occurred to her then.</p><p>“Mm...imagine if I could <em>just</em> take you inside. It wouldn’t be the whole thing, of course, just the tip—but imagine how good you’d feel. Can you feel how hot and wet you’re making me?” Verna whispered, digging her fingers into Callias’ belly as she ground her way to another orgasm. This one was easier than the first, in some ways—her body was always a little more keyed to pleasure after the first climax—but also harder to keep up the stream of talk. It was so much easier just to make her own noises, but she also wanted Callias to know exactly how much she’d been thinking about him.</p><p>“Princess—Verna, please. Please?” Callias groaned.</p><p>“Please what, Callias?”</p><p>“Please let me come.”</p><p>“I didn’t even know I could control that! But if you insist…” She scooted to the side, sitting between his legs with her feet slung over his hips. “You can come <em>after</em> I’m done playing.”</p><p>He let out a frustrated growl, which changed to a surprised gasp as she cupped his balls.</p><p>Verna had spent most of her time thinking about <em>penises</em>, really, speculating on Callias’ girth and length. Quite frankly, it was almost disappointing to realize that he would never actually fit inside her, even if it would have been too risky to try. But in all her rumination about his cock, she hadn’t thought about his testicles. Perhaps because in all her training’s emphasis on virginity, she’d only thought about penetration.</p><p>But his balls were...well, <em>soft</em>, and scattered with sparse white hairs. Callias’ salt and pepper chest hair seemed to only get saltier the farther south she traveled. The skin around the heavy glands was warm and surprisingly thin, and when she cupped them in her hand they overflowed her palm. But when she stroked lightly, just the edge of her nails near the base, they jumped as if to retreat inside his body.</p><p>“Princess—that’s not—that’s not helping me <em>not</em> come,” Callias gritted out.</p><p>“Oh, poor Callias. All those years of <em>not</em> having to be a virgin, and now <em>you</em> can’t stand it,” Verna said chidingly. She wrapped her other hand around his cock, as best she could—never mind that her fingers couldn’t reach around him. She started stroking, using loose movements. “Big strong warrior like you, and you can’t take any teasing?” Another thought occurred to her then. “Tell me, what would you do if I gave you a slap down here? A hard slap right on your balls?”</p><p>Callias’ hoarse wheeze...wasn’t exactly unhappy.</p><p>“Callias?”</p><p>“I’d like that very much.”</p><p>Verna took a deep breath, struggling to hide her own anxiety—he <em>said</em> he liked it, he <em>said</em> it, he wouldn’t lie to her, but what if this was just another fantasy? What if she actually hurt him? </p><p>Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. She released his cock, aimed carefully, and gave him a flick of her wrist against his sack.</p><p>Callias chuckled, a jiggle of laughter through his entire body. “I can take it harder, Princess. I can—<em>ah</em>!” His startled yelp rose an octave, because this time Verna put her shoulder into it, swinging hard enough to create an audible slap of skin on skin. His testicles bounced with the motion, and Callias’ knees rose as if to curl around the source of the pain. Verna’s ankles rose with the movement, and she had to grab his thigh to keep from falling backwards.</p><p>“Too much?”</p><p>“Nngh. No.” Callias exhaled heavily through his mouth, an audible gust as he struggled to hold himself in place. “It’s good. It’s good because it’s for <em>you</em>. I can lift you with one hand, but you can bring me to my knees with—<em>unf</em>!”</p><p>This time it was a backhand, the hard bones of her knuckles striking his sack. His back arched, legs rising as if to throw her off before remembering his place. She could feel his thighs trembling, could almost taste the heightened state of his arousal and the sharp tang of his sweat.</p><p>“So this is what you like? You like getting slapped around and stepped on?” Verna teased, a sing-song cadence in her taunt. It made an easy rhythm, something to follow as she continued slapping him. “What if I got my favorite boots—the ones with the stacked heels and embroidered roses—and I put my weight on you? Just the edge of my heel, then pressing…”</p><p>“Oh fuck. Oh <em>fuck</em>,” Callias wheezed. “Princess, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”</p><p>“No you’re not,” Verna said firmly, removing her hands from his body. She crossed her arms under her breasts, glaring. “I’m not done playing, and I haven’t given you permission. Don’t you <em>dare</em>.”</p><p>Callias’ cock swayed, and she could imagine the swell of semen struggling for release. Verna was certain she was about to get a face full of come, but after a short while, Callias let out a strangled groan instead.</p><p>“All right. I’m <em>not</em> gonna. <em>Fuck</em>.”</p><p>Verna giggled. “If I <em>had</em> let you come, what would you have wanted to do? If I gave you permission?”</p><p>Callias swallowed, looking up at her with a pleading expression. “I’d flip you onto your back and kneel over you. Then I’d jack off. Right on top of you, and I’d jizz all over your pretty tits. Then I’d lick it up, and swallow everything so you’d be just as clean as before. So you’d look just as pure.” His voice was fervent as a prayer.</p><p>“Have you swallowed semen before? Or sucked cock?”</p><p>“Who hasn’t?”</p><p>“Not <em>me</em>, obviously,” Verna snapped. “Which means you’ll have to teach me, then. Open your mouth. Show me how to suck cock.” She rose to her knees, and crawled up so she could sit next to his shoulder. Verna bundled two fingers together, resting them against Callias’ lower lip before he opened his mouth for her.</p><p>It was—well, hot. Also wet, and <em>ticklish</em>, the way Callias’ tongue wrapped around her fingers, lapping over the joints with a swell of saliva. He looked ridiculous, wrapping his teeth so as not to scrape her fingers. It was undignified, and wet, and squelchy—air squished around the soft parts of his mouth, but he seemed to be having a good time. His tusks weren’t a problem, not with how small her hand was, but she couldn’t imagine him sucking on anything bigger. Not without biting, at least. </p><p>A thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth, trickling down his chin as he swallowed, but he didn’t seem to care. Maybe he just loved sucking cock, or maybe he loved imagining <em>her</em> sucking his cock.</p><p>The thought created a flare of warmth in her belly, and she added another finger to his lips. It wasn’t even a stretch for him, taking that third finger, so she added a fourth. He swallowed her almost to the knuckles, and by then it seemed automatic to tuck her thumb into the hollow of her fingers, which meant that a second later—</p><p>“Callias, that’s—that’s my entire <em>fist</em> in your mouth,” she breathed.</p><p>He hummed, apparently happy.</p><p>“Could I—would you like if I played with your butt, then? I don’t know if spit counts as lube, but…”</p><p>Callias pushed his tongue against her palm and she withdrew. He grinned up at her, lips wet. “Spit <em>can</em> be lube, sure. And you’ve got small hands.”</p><p>“Have you had things in your butt before?” At Callias’ nod, she asked, “How often?”</p><p>Callias shrugged, as if he’d lost count. Verna was discovering all <em>sorts</em> of things about him today. “Dunno. Had an ex who really liked pegging. Used to fuck around with my old squadmates. Had a couple really good gangbangs.”</p><p>Verna’s eyes went wide—well, <em>wider</em>—with each statement. She knew what pegging was, having studied various diagrams of dubious authenticity, and she’d speculated about the mechanics of group sex, but…</p><p>“A <em>gangbang</em>, really? Is that a real thing people do? Did you...did you like it? How many people were there? And by the gods, why did you <em>never tell me</em>?”</p><p>“Yes, and yes I liked it. I lost count of the people. And, Princess—” He raised an eyebrow at her, not quite an accusation. “I thought you were supposed to be a virgin.”</p><p>“Virgins have ears!” she protested. “And imaginations! And access to the erotica of Madame Morisette’s restricted catalogue!” She clapped her hands together excitedly, voice rising with delighted shock. “I just—I never knew you were a <em>slut</em>, Callias! That makes you a <em>primary source</em>!”</p><p>Callias rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, that means you’re <em>important</em>! Well, even <em>more</em> important! Because I have so many <em>questions</em>—”</p><p>“Questions later. Can I come <em>now</em>?” he pleaded.</p><p>“After I play with your butt!”</p><p>Which meant kneeling back between his legs, one finger pressed against the rim of his ass. Her finger was still spit-slick and gleaming, and Callias was so <em>big</em>, even down there, that her finger slid in with hardly any resistance. It felt so <em>different</em> from playing with herself, feeling that tight outer rim before sliding into the welcoming embrace of his ass.</p><p>“Princess—another finger. Please.” He rocked around her, all warm contractions as she slid another finger alongside the first. Then a third, because he was still begging, then a fourth, and then…</p><p>“Another. <em>Please</em>.”</p><p>“Callias, I’m—I’m out of fingers, all that’s left is my <em>fist</em>—”</p><p>“I can take it, I’ve taken it before, <em>please</em>—!” And by the gods but he <em>did</em> take it, he <em>took</em> it, his eyes screwed tight with pleasure and his jaw loose and <em>by the gods</em> this was her entire hand inside his ass now. Verna had thought he would be <em>fragile</em> somehow, that this would be the most delicate place on his whole body, but he was all muscular warmth and pressure. She tried rocking her forearm, then leaning into it a little with her body, and <em>oh</em> she must have done something right, because he clenched around her in rippling waves.</p><p>Verna didn’t know if he could come like this, but she knew that <em>she</em> couldn’t come without touching her own clit, so she wrapped her other hand around his cock. She tried stroking, setting up a hasty rhythm to match the movement of his body, trying for the same intensity with which he wrapped around her forearm.</p><p>“Princess, please...just let me come. Let me come, I…” His words trailed into inarticulate groaning, and Verna studied him thoughtfully.</p><p>Callias was gleaming, covered in sweat and spit and the silvery smear of her own juices. He was so vulnerable, on his back with his hands behind his head. His ass clenched around her and his balls were exposed, willing targets for if she wanted to do something to them. He was strong and vulnerable and <em>hers</em>, all hers.</p><p>“Say my name,” she said softly.</p><p>“Verna, Verna, Verna…”</p><p>Verna smiled. “Come, then.”</p><p>And as if he was only waiting for her permission, he came. He came with a flex of his hips and a strangled cry, semen spurting across his belly and leaking down his side in slippery trails. His ass clamped around her, a bruising crush of force around her arm. She leaned forward, elbow resting on his thigh as she gripped the base of his cock. She didn’t know if he was coming again, or if this was another spurt from the same orgasm, but there was another surge of pressure, another burst of semen spattering free.</p><p>In the pursuit of knowledge, she dragged a finger through the puddle of semen on his belly and brought it up to her mouth for a taste. It wasn’t, objectively speaking, the best thing she’d ever tasted—kind of salty and warm, a bit like swallowing raw oysters, and <em>nothing</em> like the purple-prosed erotica that waxed lyrical on the taste of a lover’s fluids—but there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that it came from Callias. That <em>she</em> had made Callias come.</p><p>Verna pulled her arm out and wiped it on her discarded underthings. She was breathing heavily, but it was nothing like Callias’ panting. His chest heaved, his body sweat-slick as if he had just finished running a marathon. Maybe he had, in his own way. Verna was so used to self-denial that she wondered how it might feel, being spent this way, for someone who had so much more experience than she did.</p><p>“Holy fuck. Holy <em>fuck</em>,” he gasped, and his eyes blinked open to look up at her with a worshipful expression. “Princess…”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“You said you imagined this every <em>night</em>?”</p><p>“Well—not like <em>this</em>, not always,” Verna said, in the interest of being truthful. She scooted out from between his legs, and sat next to his ribs. “But every night, yes.”</p><p>“How many more ways have you...imagined?”</p><p>Verna laughed, tossing her braids over one shoulder. “Oh, lots. It’ll take years to go through them all.”</p><p>Callias gave a strangled laugh. “Is that a promise, or a threat?”</p><p>“It’s a promise, if you’re good. If you’re not—if you don’t answer all of my many, <em>many</em> questions about sex—then it’s a threat.”</p><p>“This is—this is the best assignment <em>ever</em>.”</p><p>“Really?” she asked, suddenly shy. “I mean—carrying books, following me around the palace—that’s not too boring?”</p><p>“Gods, no. I like fighting, but I’m fifty fucking years old. I’m <em>happy</em> settling down and having orgies on my off days.”</p><p>“Well…” Verna giggled, leaning across his chest to kiss his nose. “Then I promise I’ll do my best to keep things interesting while you’re on the job.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>